


the first star I see tonight

by catgirl220



Series: Senses of Hogwarts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Insomnia, PTSD?, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catgirl220/pseuds/catgirl220
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna Lovegood looks at the world, and the world looks back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the first star I see tonight

 

Luna sees the world differently than other people. She sees colors and emotions and endless possibilities.  

Her mother was the same way. Pandora Lovegood raised her child on folk tales, songs, and laughter. Luna grew up requesting favorite myths as bedtime stories and looking at the pictures of creatures that may or may not be real. (She tends to keep an open mind on that issue.)

Luna only remembers fragments of her mother—a tall, beautiful woman laughing and spinning her in circles—Pandora bent over a potion, hair tied back and eyebrows smoking—her mother singing in a different language as she ran her hand through Luna’s hair. 

She wishes they had more time together. It is something that tinges certain days with a rainy wistfulness. She has pictures of her mother, yes, but it’s not the same. 

Still, Luna’s father is there for her. They go on vacation together, looking for elusive creatures. He teaches her about the constellations and tells her jokes when she falls out of a tree and sprains her ankle. She loves her father unconditionally, and she knows he feels the same way. 

It’s never quite bothered Luna what others think of her. She feels bad for some of them, who are scared of the unknown factors that she represents. Some fellow Ravenclaws see her as a puzzle that they want to crack. She knows they are just curious and eager to learn but she doesn’t let them break her. Luna is strong. 

 

She looks in the mirror each morning, inspecting her reflection. Long, blond hair like her father’s. Her mother’s eyes: steady and wondering. Luna’s fond of her nose. 

Her roommates are friendly enough, she supposes. They don’t talk to her much, and a few don’t like the way she uses her allotted dorm space. Luna can’t imagine why. On her nightstand is a vase of wildflowers that she replaces every two days. In the winter she spells snowflakes to stay in the shape of daisies and puts them in the vase. She hangs a dreamcatcher on the wall above her bed, the one from home that her mother made. Pandora shared Luna’s love of beautiful and odd things. 

Finally, (her favorite) Luna places a glass prism on her nightstand. It catches the sun and sends colored light throughout the room. She likes to sit and turn it sometimes, watching the sunlight dance on the walls.

 

She meets Ginny at the end of her third year. They bond over a book in the library. 

“That’s not true,” Luna had said, noticing first the girl’s fiery hair, then the text that the Gryffindor was perusing. “Merlin didn't die from a sword wound— he’s immortal.” 

“If he’s immortal, then why isn’t he here?” Ginny had asked skeptically. 

“Maybe he’s waiting for something. Maybe he’s tired of wizards and living in seclusion on a mountaintop. Maybe he’s holding out for Arthur to be reincarnated.” 

Ginny gave her a curious look. “What’s your name?” 

“Luna Lovegood.” 

A firm hand was held out, a handshake exchanged. “Ginny Weasley.” 

“Ginny. That’s a beautiful name. What’s it short for?” 

“Um…Ginevra.” 

Luna smiled. “Ginevra. It means ‘fair one,’ doesn’t it?” 

The Gryffindor laughed. “I wouldn’t know. What year are you?” 

“Third.” 

“Me too!” Ginny smiled and pulled up a chair, gesturing for Luna to sit. “What classes are you taking?” 

And just like that, Luna made her first true friend. Ginny was fierce, witty, and loyal to a fault. She would fight anyone who made fun of Luna, even if the Ravenclaw didn’t want her to. 

She tried to teach Luna to fly once, but the blond girl ended up drifting aimlessly through the air, and Ginny had to get her down. Although Ginny had been worried, Luna didn't mind the feeling of going nowhere and everywhere at once. From her vantage point on the broom she could see all of Hogwarts. She wondered if this was how birds felt all the time, and then wondered what it would be like to have wings. 

Ginny introduced Luna to the other Gryffindors that she hung out with, those a year above her. They were an interesting group. Ron Weasley was a little weirded out by Luna, she could tell. And Hermione Granger had a desire to be in control of all information, so much that she refused to accept the possibilities of things that she didn’t know about. Luna tried to broaden Hermione’s mind as much as possible, but the older girl seemed determined to stick to the facts. 

Too bad, Luna mused to herself. Hermione, with her attention to detail, would have been a great asset to the hunt for a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. 

This was her first group of friends. Luna was thrilled at the thought, and sent home a letter to her father immediately detailing what had happened. He was pleased, to say the least, and sent her back a large Dirigible Plum in congratulations. 

 

Having known death since she was a very young girl, the thestrals weren’t a surprise, nor did they frighten her. With their skeletal wings and black, tough skin, Luna thinks they look like a sculpture by some beautiful god who breathed life into his creations. 

She finds a foal one day when she is wandering the Forbidden Forest. The creature is trapped in the branches of a fallen tree, screeching. Luna doesn’t know where the mother is, but one of the young thestrals wings is pinned beneath the tree trunk. Luna feels a tugging in her gut—a strange empathy towards this lonely creature. 

She should go get Hagrid, she knows. Thestrals can be dangerous, and this one is panicked beyond belief. But something keeps her there, rooted to the spot. 

The foal sees her and thrashes its head back and forth, jaws snapping. Luna wants to help, but not knowing how to do so without getting mauled, she starts to sing. 

 _“Oh, I ain’t got no use,”_ She sings. _“Ain’t got no use for my red rocking chair. I ain’t got no sugar baby now. Got no sugar honey baby now.”_

It is an old Muggle folksong that her mother used to sing to her, one originating from the mountains of another continent. The song is slow and mournful, cutting through the air of the forest. The thestral shakes its head, snapping its jaws shut. 

Luna keeps going. _“Oh, who’ll rock the cradle? Who’ll rock the cradle and who’ll sing that song? Who’ll rock the cradle when you’re gone? Who’ll rock the cradle when you’re gone?”_

The beast quiets, shifting its good wing and whining softly. Luna approaches ever so slowly, hands out in a soothing gesture. 

_“Oh, I’ll rock the cradle. I’ll rock the cradle and I’ll sing that song. I’ll rock the cradle when you’re gone. I’ll rock the cradle when you’re gone.”_

She is close enough to see the flanks of the young thestral move as it sighs loudly. She moves the large branch, freeing the thestral’s wing. It stands, shaking itself out. 

Something on the other side of the clearing snorts, and Luna whips around to see two older thestrals watching cautiously. The foal looks at them and whinnies, then back at Luna. 

She finishes her song. _“Well, I laid her in the shade. Laid her in the shade, gave her every dime I made. What else could a poor boy do? What else could a poor boy do?”_

The youngling snorts and nods, shaking its wings out once more. Then it turns disappears with its family into the shadows of the Forest. Luna smiles and heads back to the castle. 

 

The war comes along as quickly as they had expected. Luna is held in the cellar of Malfoy Manor for—she doesn’t know how long. She doesn’t know how much time has passed—doesn’t know when day turns to night and the moon sinks beneath the glowing horizon. The shadows on the walls of the cellar stay the same, making horrific faces at her and dancing demonically. 

There’s a type of creature that thrives in the shadows. It sneaks up in the darkness to smother the unlucky victim. Luna tries desperately not to see enemies and fantastical beasts where there are none, thinking instead of her parents and her friends. She imagines the crystal prism in her dormitory and projects light from her mind’s eye into the gloom of the cellar.

It helps when other people are there, to have someone to talk to and share stories with. Ollivander starts to teach her the ways of the wand, although both of theirs were taken. 

Luna finds a rusty nail in the corner and draws great pictures on the walls with it, scratching in the sun, flowers, and dragons breathing fire. Constellations are sketched out in the cellar, trying to break free of the dungeon wall and shine. She draws a great tree, creates things that would bring happiness when she sees them again, when she gets out. If she gets out. 

She refuses to think about that. In the meantime, watching her pictures take shape on the wall gives her strength. It reassures her that they are real, and that she is real, only adding to her imagination running rampant. She lets it, eager for a distraction, sometimes telling Mr. Ollivander the stories she envisions. 

It helps keep both of them sane. 

 

After the war, after the Death Eaters were vanquished, after Harry Potter had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Luna found herself back at Hogwarts, ready to complete her seventh and final year. 

Some of her thoughts had changed now. She no longer saw her father as an eccentric god, but rather as a flawed human being. She knew he had only been trying to get her back, but it took her a while to forgive him completely for endangering her friends. 

Luna can see the change in her classmates. They are jumpy at sudden noises, some surly like they never were before, some laughing too loud at jokes that aren’t funny. She sees them turning to grin at an empty space beside them, before the grin slips as they realize the person they want isn’t there. 

She watches them hold their broken shards in their hands and try to piece themselves back together. She knows because she joins in, offering glue and flowers. It’s the least she can do. 

 

Luna looks at Draco Malfoy and sees a sad, shattered boy. She sees the way other students skirt and whisper around him, and she feels bad. In the halls, he walks with a few fellow eighth year Slytherins—once rulers of the school, now pariahs. Other students shy away or shove them as they go by. The Slytherins do nothing, only clenching fists inside their robes or bowing their heads to stare at the ground. They have accepted that the mistakes of their parents would carry over to them—had accepted the fact when they chose to come back to Hogwarts.  

But Luna thinks the whole idea of an “outsider” is overrated. (After all, she is one herself.) She sends anonymous gifts to anyone who she thinks could use them—tiny chocolates or crayon drawings (provided by a gifted Hannah Abbott). Ginny finds out and starts to help, using her talent at sleuthing to write down the likes and dislikes of certain students. It adds a certain glimmer to otherwise boring days.

She bumps into Draco Malfoy one night quite by accident, and quite literally bumps into him as well. He looks incredibly uncomfortable at the sight of her, and Luna is about to leave when she catches a glimpse of his eyes. 

Even in the darkness of the hallways, she can see their veiled horror. The gray irises are clouding with remembered visions, and Luna can bet they aren’t pleasant ones. She notices a thin sheen of sweat on the boy’s forehead and knows instantly what happened. 

Luna asks Malfoy about his nightmares, which he vehemently denies, thus confirming her suspicion. She knows what it feels like to wake from a terrifying memory, and brings Draco up to look at the night sky with her. 

He asks her if she has bad dreams too. She avoids the question. 

Draco thinks her silly, Luna knows. He scoffs at her thoughts on the nature of stars and responds with science. She doesn’t tell him that science and fantasy can exist at the same time. He is beginning to realize that on his own. 

Luna feels strongly about the idea that stars are the souls of the dead. It gives her a certain comfort—that she can still see those who have gone before, and they are still watching her, somewhere in the vastness of space. 

She notices there are more stars in the sky after the war. 

Luna shows Draco the constellation he is named after, and he tells her most of his family’s names come from stars. He gives her examples and she picks them out like her father taught her, tracing their shapes with her finger. 

It becomes routine for them, finding one another in the darkened hallways after one of his nightmares and going up to the tower. A little while later, Draco stands up for her in the Great Hall, using his feared and respected status to make students stop laughing at her. 

The action pleases Luna, although it wasn’t completely necessary. Ginny catches her eye and makes a ‘ _You two are friends?’_ face. Luna smiles. 

 

She has trouble sleeping. Even though her dreamcatcher usually works, and even though Luna knows she is incredibly safe at Hogwarts, she doesn’t like to sleep. In the dark, in the closing of her eyes, there’s nothing to look at but her memories. 

She suffers insomnia, lying awake at night staring at the ceiling or wandering the halls. Sometimes Draco finds her in the library, sitting high on a bookshelf, a dusty tome spread open over her knees. But the library at night makes her feel claustrophobic with its looming shelves and oppressing shadows. The ceiling of the large room is gray and stone. Luna prefers the openness of the stars. 

One night, she is so tired her eyes can barely stay open. Her limbs feel like dragging on the ground they’re dragging on the ground, and Draco frowns when he notices this. 

“Have you been sleeping lately?” He asks. 

Luna shrugs. “Have you?” 

“Don’t change the subject, Lovegood.” His tone is stern but fond. 

She looks away, waving her wand and scattering blue sparks through the air, stifling a yawn. 

“Oi, I’ve got something to show you,” Draco says. 

Luna turns, struggling to focus on him. “You have?” 

“Yep. But it’s a surprise, so you’ve got to count to thirty before opening your eyes, alright?” 

She smiles. “Alright.” 

Her eyes close, and her lips begin to form silent words. _“One…two…three…"_  

Draco watches smugly as the words start to slow down, and the spaces grow bigger gaps between them. By the time she reaches nineteen, Luna’s head has drooped down to her chest. 

“ _Twenty-two…”_ Her mouth drops open and Luna’s breathing evens out into the deep pattern of sleep. 

Draco wakes her up roughly five hours later, saying they’ve got to go before someone comes along. Luna is surprised when he wakes her up, not realizing she had been sleeping.  

He makes her promise to try to sleep every night. She does, with no intention of keeping the promise. 

A day later, one of Luna’s roommates approaches her in the tower as the room gets ready for bed. Nasreen sits on Luna’s bed, fiddling with her toothbrush. 

“You’re not gonna leave us in the middle of the night, are you, Luna?” She asks. 

Luna inspects her. Nasreen is smiling teasingly, but her eyes are serious. 

“How d’you know I leave?” Luna asks. 

“Ginny Weasley told me. Said I was to make sure you stay tonight, said she and Draco Malfoy were teaming up to make sure you get rest.” Nasreen laughs. “Odd pair, them. Never thought I’d see those two calling truce.” 

Luna smiles, shrugs. “People change.” 

“But seriously, Luna. Humans need a certain amount of sleep to function, and especially teenagers.” 

“I know.” 

Nasreen raises an eyebrow, and Luna can just see the darker girl using that stare on her future children. Luna is no child, but she relents anyway. “I’ll stay here tonight, promise.” 

They shake hands on it. Luna stays in her bed, not expecting to sleep. After a few hours of restless nothing, she closes her eyes reluctantly. 

The memories of the war do come, but she imagines herself locking them up into a trunk. Luna closes the heavy lid and walks away, into a meadow full of wildflowers. People are there, putting flowers in each other’s hair or staring up at the sky. 

Luna lies down next to Draco and Ginny, pointing out how one cloud formed the shape of a hippogriff. Her mother calls out that it is clearly a griffin, laughing as Xenophilius points out the differences between the two. Hermione tries to teach Ron how to make a flower chain, while Harry discreetly hides daisies in his friend’s hair. Blaise is tickling Pansy with a lupine stalk, quickly staring at the sky innocently when she turns to glare at him. The clouds above shift into fantastic shapes over a bright blue sky. 

 

When Luna wakes, the sunlight is beaming in through the window with the joy only a Saturday can bring. It dances off of her crystal onto the walls. 

Nasreen is already in the bathroom. Luna enters, a spring in her step. 

“I didn’t even realize I fell asleep,” She comments cheerfully. 

“Good!” Nasreen exclaims, cleaning her glasses. “Feeling any better?” 

The blond girl smiles. “Always.” 

 

She still loves stories, telling them to anyone who will listen, and learning a few from her new friends. One day, Luna thinks, she’ll tell them to her own children, although she’s in no rush for romance. 

Luna knows that she sees the world differently than some others. But her mother had taught her to view it this way, and she wouldn’t change it for anything. 

Draco is getting better at identifying constellations and planets. He makes her proud, watching how far he’s come. Luna notices little changes in his demeanor as the year goes on. He no longer shrinks when he stands as though he doesn’t want to be noticed. All of the eighth years have been knotting their ties more loosely around their neck. Some of the teachers get on them for it, but Luna thinks the practice wonderful. 

“I’m gonna miss you next year,” She confesses one time, leaning against him. 

He wraps a brotherly arm around her. “You’ll still come see me, right? Wherever I end up?” 

“You can’t get rid of me so easily, Draco,” Luna comments. “Us blonds have to stick together. Besides, who else will keep the Dura Facies away? They’re still a serious threat to you.” 

He chuckles and she looks up, exhaling as the universe fills her eyes. 

The night glistens with deep colors like an artist’s canvas as the pair stands on the balcony, watching indigo wind swirl around the black velvety sky. 

Luna doesn’t know what the stars are. Maybe they are the souls of the dead. Maybe they are the eyes of some awesome creature. Maybe they are just stories, or songs, or flowers blooming somewhere in space. 

But whatever they are, they are looking down at the world, and Luna knows that they are smiling. And she smiles with them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I couldn't think of a female Ravenclaw in Luna's year, so I just invented one....anyway, hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> I'm going to beg your patience regarding the next installment of this series--it should be up in a week or two and will have to do with hearing.


End file.
